Running away.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

What do they think? Are they talking about me? Do they like me? Is there anything I’m doing wrong? Are they happy with me? Are they really nice or they’re just acting? Are they angry with me? What do they talk when I’m not there? Do they think that I’m rude? Am I not awkward? Or am I?
I hear these questions all the time. ALL the time. My head is noisy, crowdy and I really didn’t want to write about this mess again.

I started to have tics. Now I’m not only scratching myself to blood, I tear my hair out, my heart is trying to escape from my chest almost a dozen times a day.
And don’t get me wrong - I know answers for all those questions at the beginning, it’s very simple: people just don’t care. They have other stuff to do.
But I can’t help it. That’s the problem.
I’d really want it to be as easy as „just stop thinking about it”. It makes me feel totally out of control.
And you know me - I love my control as much as I love my gluten and lactose and sugar.
I heard: „you don’t have problems so you make them up”.
It’s not the thing.
As one of my lovely readers noticed under my previous post - when your life goes well the sick part of you is even more visible. And that makes me crazy. It causes an error in my brain. And there’s basically no one to talk to, because I can’t answer the question „what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
When I can’t answer people get mad. And I don’t want to make anyone mad.
That’s why I stay silent...
But writing helps. That’s why I do this. That’s why you read it now.
I keep telling myself that I cannot run away. But I still do that. Remember my panic attack when was invited for a party? I ran away.
Christmas party at my job is just around the corner - I seriously consider running away and not telling anyone.
There are just fears we are fighting with our whole lives. And I’m not sure if we ever stop.
We all have some demons. Would we be complete without them?


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